Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 11

[Author's Note: I would like to thank all my fans that have written to me over the several years it has taken to complete this novel. Your comments, suggestions and ideas have provided me with some great material. You have my gratitude. This last chapter of "Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium" will represent my final excursion into writing erotic literature for a while. It has been a wonderful experience and I hope in some small way that I have provided you with some measure of fun and enjoyment. Thank you one and all! Au revoir!]

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A few days after the wild fashion show party at the twin's estate, I was sitting outside on my aunt's veranda reading a book on ancient Roman history. Craig and I had spent the day before sightseeing in Paris and I had become so tired from all the walking that I needed to take a day off for myself just to recuperate.

It was a quiet, beautiful, late August day. My aunt and Charlotte were visiting some friends in Lyon, while Justine and Estelle were enjoying their vacation on the French Riviera. I had thought that Lenore was going to accompany them, so it was with some surprise when the phone rang and I found that she was still in Paris.

"I've been trying to reach you on your cell for the past two hours. Where are you?" my mentor said, a bit impatiently.

"Reading on the veranda. I didn't want to be disturbed. Is something wrong?"

"I need to talk to you. Can I come over now?"

"Of course, Lenore. Are you all right? You sound upset."

She hesitated a moment before answering. "I'll tell you when I see you."

A little over an hour later she arrived, not in her chauffer-driven limo but in an Italian sports car, a red Ferrari, that she drove herself. I met her at the front door and she followed me out onto the veranda. She had on a pair of white shorts and a white blouse. She was wearing tennis shoes and I noticed that one of the laces had become undone. The afternoon sun was warm but not hot, and I offered her a glass of sparkling water.

"Thank you," she said, taking the glass. "I'm so thirsty these days."

She sat down on a chaise lounge opposite me and took a long drink. I offered to tie her shoe lace but she refused.

"You look very pale," I said to her. "Are you feeling all right?"

She looked at me with those impervious, cobalt-blue eyes of hers and then down at her hands. "No, actually. I'm not all right, Holly." The hand that held the glass shook a little, and then I saw her eyes start to well up.

"Lenore!" I said, quickly pulling up a chair next to her. "Tell me, what's wrong?"

Before she could utter a word, she broke down in tears. I put my hand on her shoulder and spoke to her in comforting tones, but the tears would not abate. Finally, after a few minutes had passed, she began to regain her composure and wiped her eyes with her handkerchief.

"I feel a little better now," she said softly as she blew her nose. "I'm sorry my dear. I did not mean to alarm you."

"Please tell me what's going on," I insisted. "You have me worried to death."

She took a deep breath and a sip of water, and then began. "I have just come from my doctor's office. A few weeks ago I had experienced some pains in my chest and went in for an examination. They found that I have a problem with my heart. It's not cancer, but a form of arrhythmia—an irregular heartbeat—that could prove to be fatal…"

"Oh, no," I said. "I don't believe it. You've always been so strong."

"Not that strong, my darling Holly. The doctor has me on some damn prescription drug that I must take religiously for the rest of my life. I hate the entire idea of it. Me, dependent upon a drug!"

"Have you told aunt Phoebe and the others?"

"No, you are the only one that knows."

"But you must tell them. They have a right to know."

"They will be told, soon enough. I see no reason to cast a cloud over their holiday." She drew herself up in her chair and frowned. "My doctor has insisted that I must avoid all forms of stress. He absolutely forbids me to engage in any activity that will tax my nervous system or I just may end up dead. What do you think of that?"

"Oh, Lenore, I'm so sorry," I said, wrapping my arms around her neck. It was now my turn to cry.

"It's all right, mon chéri. I don't intend to go out so easily."

"Don't even talk like that," I said, gently reprimanding her.

She forced herself to laugh, despite herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you. Just to tell you the truth. That's all."

I removed my arms from around her neck and took her hands in mine. "Maybe you should join Estelle and Justine on vacation. You will be able to get lots of rest there."

"No," she said forlornly. "As soon as I saw them I'd be forced to tell them everything and that would ruin their vacation. They will all return next week. I will tell them then."

For a while she looked off into the distance, refusing to meet my gaze. Knowing her as I did, I knew this was the prelude to something less than pleasant.

"I must tell you something now that is very important. And you will need to make a decision about it one way or the other, and soon I should think."

"What is it? What decision?"

She took a sip of water and held my hand firmly. "Because my health is compromised, I cannot effectively lead the Sisterhood any longer. I therefore am turning over temporary executive power to Justine and Estelle, who will now act in my stead. I emphasize 'temporary' power. Full executive privileges are reserved for the one who will take my place. That's you, Holly."

I didn't know how to respond to her at first because my mind was going in several different directions at once. I knew the Sisterhood mantle was to be passed onto me at some point in the future, but it sounded like that future time was coming closer and closer and I was not ready for it.

"What are you asking of me?"

"I am asking you to prepare yourself to lead the Sisterhood."

"But I have two years of school in front of me. You know that. I'm not ready to accept this responsibility now."

"You are more ready than you know."

I shook my head, not wanting to hear her rationale. "I have my parents whom I have to answer to. It's not as easy as you think. In a few more years' time when I finish my school…"

"By that time the Sisterhood will dead and gone. Even now as we speak, our Order has become seriously divisive. Angelique has corrupted many of our Sisters. Yes, it's true that we retain most of our Order, but she gains new adherents every day. I warned you long ago that a fight was coming, and it's now on our doorstep. Fortunately, you have many loyal and exceptionally talented Sisters who will do their best to help you. You know who they are."

"You mean Felicia, Janet, Charlotte…?"

"And don't forget Ashley and Mary Kate. They're billionaires with great power in the outside world. Those twins may prove to be your greatest allies."

"And what about aunt Phoebe?"

"What about her?"

"Why can't she assume the leadership of the Sisterhood? I mean, until I'm ready."

My mentor sighed heavily. "Because of Angelique. Certainly you can see this. You know that I love your aunt as if she were my own sister. But she is still Angelique's mother. And as much as Phoebe may say she hates her daughter now, there is still a good chance that she might soften over time and fall prey to Angelique's machinations. It would spell doom for us all."

"So, what you're saying is…I can't go home."

Lenore smiled at me in a kindly, knowing way. She now spoke to me with great conviction. "You are free to do whatever you choose, Holly. Neither I, nor anyone in the Sisterhood can force you to do anything you don't want to do. All I can tell you is that I can no longer lead this organization. And the Sisterhood needs a leader. Not just any leader…you. You, dear girl, are the one who must fight this fight. I saw greatness in you from the very beginning, when no one else did. Like you and Charlotte, I too have the gift of clairvoyance. I know what lies ahead if that monster Angelique should become leader of the Sisterhood. The end result of such a victory will destroy everything the Sisterhood has stood for all these centuries. Angelique and her kind want to control men by using and abusing them—they want to grind all men into the ground under their heels. But that is not the way of the Sisterhood. It never was. We are not a bunch of malevolent man-haters intent on gaining control at any cost. We are communicators, collaborators…we want to tame the more aggressive aspects of men's natures through the use of both reason and pleasure, not by treating them like vermin. You understand this. Angelique never will. She can't. It is beyond her capability. That is why it must be you."

She stopped talking for a moment, turning the glass over and over in her hand. I felt she wanted to say something more, and waited patiently.

"I am truly sorry," she began, "for placing this burden upon your shoulders. Ideally, you would have taken my place as leader in a few more years, but we no longer can afford that luxury. While I am able to, I will help you in any way I can from behind the scenes, but I cannot take any visible action. The decision rests with you."

For a few moments I sat with my head resting in my hands, wondering what I was going to do.

"If I decide to stay, what about my parents? What do I tell them?"

"We can tell them that you have decided to continue your studies here in France. I don't think they would object to that."

"But I want to see them at some point. I mean, I do miss them after all."

"I understand chéri. Avec le temps, ça s'arrangera."

"Huh? Oh, yes. Everything will work out in time. I understand. I just hope you're right."

"None of us has a crystal ball, my dear. Not even the great Antoinette could foretell the future. But maybe it is best that we can't. We humans seem to make quite a mess of things as it is without the benefit of foresight."

"So you think we still have hope?"

"Sometimes hope is the only thing we have to go on."

Lenore put her glass down and slowly rose up from her chair. I could tell she was now looking more like her old self, and she took my face in her hands and lovingly kissed each cheek.

"I must go now. Think of what I said. You must make your decision soon. If you decide not to stay, then I must find another to succeed me. But I hope you will not force me into that position. I leave the choice to you."

As I watched her walk toward her car she turned around abruptly and waved goodbye. "Je t'aime, Holly!" she said.

"Je t'aime aussi!" I replied, waving back.

For some time after she left I sat in the veranda contemplating her words. That night, and for several nights thereafter, I don't think I enjoyed a fitful night's sleep.

************

If there was anything to help alleviate the stress of my continued vacillation on the subject of whether I should stay in France and become the next ruler of the Sisterhood or return to the United States and my home and family, it was the overpowering influence of those twin colossi know as Mary Kate and Ashley. Small in stature they might be, but they nonetheless cast a giant shadow in the world of entertainment and fashion. And they certainly helped get me out of my sullen mood.

On the third day following my encounter with Lenore, Ashley called to invite me to Le Trois where a luncheon was going to be held for her friend, the famous American fashion designer, Bob Mackley. His new line of women's fall outerwear was going to be exhibited in a local Parisian boutique, including some outfits designed by Mary Kate herself. I accepted the invitation immediately.

The luncheon began ostensibly at 1:00 PM, but it seemed as though people had already been there for hours. The entire rear section of the restaurant had been sealed off from the main eating area, and I had to enter from a side entrance rather than from the front.

The first thing I noticed was that all the people assembled were women. There was not a man in sight, except for Mr. Mackley himself. He was sitting at the head of a long rectangular table; Mary Kate was seated at his left and Ashley on his right. All the other chairs were occupied—mine, which was next to Ashley's, was vacant.

I counted about several dozen women of various ages; all of whom I had been told were famous fashion designers in their own right. Some were pretty, most were not, but all had much to say about fashion, both good and bad. Mr. Mackley was a handsome man in his mid-fifties and possessed of a very affable nature. He wore a white suit with a black satin shirt unbuttoned at the top. As I took my seat next to Ashley he rose and shook my hand.

"Ms. McKenzie," he said politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've met your aunt Phoebe on several occasions. A marvelous woman. So glad you could make it."

"Thank you, Mr. Mackley," I replied, as I took his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Please call me Bob," he said as he sat down. "Ashley," he said turning to her, "maybe you should introduce her to some of the ladies."

"Oh, of course," she answered.

It took several minutes for me to be introduced to all the women seated at the table, but by the time the introductions were over, I had made a few friends. All of the women were very gracious and very willing to talk about their fashion lines, no doubt made so by the quantities of liquor imbibed. I knew that Mary Kate and Ashley both drank in moderation, but tonight they seemed less inclined to allow themselves the luxury. I didn't know why until Ashley got my ear.

"We're purposely not drinking because Mary Kate wants a favor of Bob," she confessed. "We have to be careful how we approach this."

"I don't understand."

"Well, Mary Kate has a new idea she wants Bob to design, and Bob has already told her no. But you know my sister. She always gets what she wants."

"And you think she's going to convince him to change his mind tonight?"

"I'd say it's in the bag."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know Mary Kate. And I know Bob."

I tried to get more information out of her but she simply left it at that at smiled coyly.

At some point during the middle of the luncheon the topic Ashley had alluded to was raised by Mary Kate. As she bit into a small piece of shrimp scampi, she turned to Bob and looked him squarely in the face. He was just finishing off a glass of Chardonnay and he seemed quite at ease, not drunk but getting there.

"Have you given any thought to those ideas of mine, Bob?" she asked him in a casual tone.

"What ideas?"

"The ones I gave you last week. You know, for the new women's line I'd like to create."

"Oh, those," he replied, reaching for a full bottle of wine. "I think I told you that I just don't have the time. I'm already involved with one of your projects and I have other people on the hook. I'm sorry, I just can't do it."

Mary Kate continued to eat unperturbed. "You know it would mean a lot to me if you could do it. Can't you have one of your assistants handle the less important clients?"

He laughed. "They are all important to me, Mary Kate. I make no distinction among persons. You know that."

"I do know that," she replied. "And that's one of the reasons I respect you."

"Then you understand. It's simply impossible for me to take on any new projects right now."

I had to admit that his tone of voice sounded final. If it had been me or anyone else, the subject would have been dropped. But this was Mary Kate, and she would have things her way.

After a momentary lull during which Bob was served his dish of roast pork, Mary Kate resumed her interrogation. I had to admit that she was a natural at it, never pushing the issue too hard or too often, using every conceivable wily feminine tactic to draw him out. More than once, Ashley giggled into her hand at her sisters deftly handled mental tricks.

"How's the pork?" she asked Bob.

"Superb," he replied between mouthfuls. "And the shrimp?"

"Not bad," she replied. "But I think I should have ordered what you did."
Bob's face registered disappointment. "Oh, Mary Kate. If you don't like it, have it sent back. Or have some of mine."

"No, no, it's fine," she assured him. "It's just that the pork looks so delicious."

"It is. Here, try a piece."

"I don't want to take your food from you."

"No, please. Have some."

He lifted his fork to her mouth and she slowly, sensually parted her lips to accept his offering while staring directly in his face.

"Mmmm…" she sighed as she daintily chewed on the small bit of meat. "It's so good!"

The conniving sister didn't let is rest there. Seeing the pleased expression on Bob's face, she let her tongue travel around her lips in a most lascivious way. Finally, she swallowed the morsel and took a drink of water.

"One more piece, please!" she begged him.

"Of course, of course!" he said obligingly.

As he fed her the second helping of pork, she looked at Ashley and grinned.

"Watch this," Ashley said to me.

As soon as Mary Kate had consumed the meat, she let her left arm fall to her side. Pure pleasure was written all over her face. "I think I'm going to have an orgasm over this, it's so delicious."

At the same moment, Bob's eyes opened wide and he gave a great shudder, which he tried to suppress by adjusting his position in his chair.

"What's going on?" I asked Ashley.

"Keep watching," she said, her eyes glued to her sister.

Bob was definitely looking uncomfortable. Yet he made no effort to further change his position in the chair. In fact, he turned his chair slightly inward toward Mary Kate so that he could be closer to her. Her left arm still remained by her side.

"So, are you certain that you won't take on my new line?" she asked him as she toyed with her food. This time I noticed a slight back and forth movement with her arm.

"Mary Kate, please," he pleaded. "I told you I can't."

"What's the problem really?" she asked. "Is it your wife? Is she putting the choker on? I know she doesn't like me."

Bob stopped short of talking to take in a big gulp of air. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm just too damn busy right now. That's all."

"I'll pay you very well," she said, her arm falling up and down more distinctly now.

"It's…it's not a question of money, Mary Kate. It's a matter of time. Please try to understand."

"I do understand, Bob. I really do. But I must have that fashion line finished and ready to showcase for October. And I'm asking you as a friend, to do me this one favor."

Bob was now squirming in his seat and making some odd faces—a mixture of pain and pleasure all at once. Mary Kate's arm was now bent at the elbow and moving back and forth in a fast, regular motion.

"But what is it with you Mary Kate? I mean…look, no is no. I mean, to most people it would be, but not you. Must you always have things your way?"

"You know I do, Bob. You know I do."

At this point I, and most everyone at the table, including the waitresses, could see that Mary Kate was giving Bob a handjob under the table. In fact, one of the waitresses took the liberty to whisper something to lascivious twin and Mary Kate nodded in agreement. As the bold girl walked by, Ashley intercepted her.

"What did you want with my sister?" she asked the girl.

"I asked Ms. Olsen to let us know when the man will have his orgasm. All of us want to watch."

"Kinky!" she laughed. "Did you hear that, Holly?"

I just shook my head and laughed. "Everybody in this city is a voyeur!"

By this time all the women at the table were now engrossed with Mary Kate's performance. They giggled as they continued to eat their food, but they continued to maintain their concentration on the test of wills taking place at the head of the table.